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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781342">You'll Be Forever Nameless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/adragons_lionheart/pseuds/adragons_lionheart'>adragons_lionheart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:08:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/adragons_lionheart/pseuds/adragons_lionheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>During the Golden Trio's hunt for Horcruxes, an unexpected discovery leads Harry, Ron, and Hermione (with the help of some unusual friends) down the path to destroy Voldemort. A story of friendship, war, and love. *Updates every Wednesday*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Unexpected Visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>September 6, 1997</em>
</p><p>The coldest night of the year so far was drawing to a close, and a chilling silence blanketed the spindly pines and rolling hills that made up Swinley Forest.</p><p>Hermione Granger stood outside of a small tent in a clearing in the woods, a thick quilt wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the late September chill. In her hands she held <em>Secrets of the Darkest Art</em>, a text she’d been scrutinizing from the moment she’d landed in these woods with Harry and Ron after infiltrating the Ministry a few days ago.</p><p>Though the last thing she wanted to do was pore over the repulsive tome again, there was nothing else she could do. The book was their only hope at learning about the Horcruxes, and more importantly, ways to destroy the depraved objects. Earlier today, they’d managed to use Phineas Nigellus Black’s portrait from Grimmauld Place to figure out that the Sword of Gryffindor could destroy Horcruxes; however, that particular line of thinking went nowhere as the trio realized they had no idea where the real sword was. So Hermione went back to the drawing board, desperately analyzing <em>Secrets of the Darkest Art</em> for clues or hints on how to deal with the Horcruxes.</p><p>In the several days since the trio had returned from the Ministry, the locket that they had recovered from Umbridge had made their lives incredibly difficult. On more than one occasion, the locket had caused the wearer to become indescribably hateful and angry, inciting arguments without cause. It troubled Hermione immensely that the locket had so much power over them, and the eerie, slimy feeling she felt whenever she held the Horcrux wasn’t pleasant either.</p><p>It made sense that a piece of Voldemort’s soul would feel so… <em>icky</em>. But Hermione was completely done with having it in their possession, even though that was the safest place for the locket to be. The influence of the locket had made traveling with Harry and Ron unbearable, and the three of them were constantly at each other’s throats. Ron especially was rather irascible due to his splinching injury, and Hermione knew that he was feeling resentful that he couldn’t do more to help in terms of gathering food and using his wand. She knew it was only a matter of time before one of them exploded as a result of the rising tensions, which was a worrying thought.</p><p>The three of them had been best friends for almost seven years now, and Hermione wasn’t about to let Voldemort muck it all up. Hence why she spent every waking minute doing as much research as she could from the limited library she had managed to stuff in her beaded bag.</p><p>Raised voices from inside the tent broke the silence that had settled in the clearing, and Hermione sighed as she recognized the beginning of another fight. The boys had been particularly irritable tonight, and so Hermione had left them alone to their bickering and gone outside so she could have some peace and quiet to read.</p><p>Steeling herself to expect the worst, Hermione lifted open the tent flap and ducked inside.</p><p>“-you’ve obviously got a problem. Spit it out, will you?”</p><p>“All right, I’ll spit it out. Don’t expect me to skip up and down the tent because there’s some other damn thing we need to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don’t know,” Ron spat out, a mean look settling on his face.</p><p>“<em>I don’t know?</em>” repeated Harry, narrowing his eyes at Ron.</p><p>“It’s not like I’m having the time of my life here,” snarled Ron, “you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we’d been running round a few weeks, we’d have achieved something.”</p><p>“Ron,” Hermione pleaded, but she had said it so quietly that Ron pretended not to hear her.</p><p>Harry opened his mouth, possibly to respond angrily to Ron, but a loud cracking sound from outside their tent made them all stand still.</p><p>Ron began to talk, but Hermione pressed her finger against her lips, motioning for him to stay silent. The wards they had up around the clearing were still up, but it didn’t hurt to be extra cautious. She pressed her ear against the fabric of the tent, hoping to hear something that could give away what had made the noise.</p><p>She could hear a strange wheezing, snuffling noise, accompanied by the sound of someone groaning in distress.</p><p>Casting a nonverbal <em>Muffliato</em> inside the tent, Hermione turned to Harry and Ron quickly. “There’s someone out there, most likely in a lot of pain. I think they’ve possibly splinched themselves after Apparating.”</p><p>Ron winced, looking down at his bandaged arm. “But what if they’re a Death Eater? Or a Snatcher?”</p><p>Hermione grimaced. “Yeah, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take. Whoever’s out there sounds like they need some help.”</p><p>Harry nodded slowly. “We should go and help them. You’re right, Hermione. We’ll just have to be careful.”</p><p>Hermione grabbed her beaded bag and crept out of the tent, wand in hand. Harry and Ron filtered out of the tent behind her, the light from Harry’s <em>Lumos</em> brightening up the pitch black clearing. They headed towards the direction where the sound had originated from, and Hermione sucked in a strangled breath when she saw a mass of black lying just beyond their wards.</p><p><br/>
But what made Hermione truly speechless was when the light landed on the mangled face of Draco Malfoy.</p>
<hr/><p>“He fucking brought the Death Eaters into Hogwarts! He’ll lead You-Know-Who straight to us!”</p><p>Hermione massaged her temple, feeling a nasty headache start to set in. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was two in the morning.</p><p>After the trio had found Malfoy shivering in the cold and out of his mind with pain, Hermione had quickly Stupified him, and followed up with an <em>Incarcerous</em>. The three of them had argued for a little while on what they should do with their unexpected guest before deciding that it was probably useful for them to have him as a prisoner, at least temporarily.</p><p>However, Ron was not completely convinced with this course of action and was adamant that they should just kick Malfoy out and leave him in the forest to die.</p><p>Harry had been strangely quiet during the whole ordeal, but would occasionally send troubled glances towards Malfoy, who was currently knocked out and bound to an armchair in the farthest corner of the tent. Hermione had administered some minor healing spells and pain relieving ointments, but a lot of the damage Malfoy had endured would take time to heal.</p><p>“Look, Ron. If Malfoy proves to be trouble, then we can Obliviate him and send him on his merry way. But until then, he could be incredibly useful- not only as a bargaining chip. He might know something about what we’re looking for.” Hermione purposefully kept her wording vague in case Malfoy was somehow listening in. Feeling a little paranoid since it had been about half an hour since she had last stunned him, she sent a nonverbal<em> Stupefy</em> his way to make sure he was really out for the count.</p><p>“Also, I think we don’t really know what’s going on with Malfoy,” Harry confessed. Seeing Hermione and Ron’s confused faces, he continued. “Think about it. How is he this badly injured? No one from the Order would have attacked him this viciously. Someone else must have attacked him.” The troubled look appeared on Harry’s face again.</p><p>Hermione nodded, her brain whirring as she considered this new possibility. “That’s quite an astute observation, Harry...you’re absolutely right. When I was looking over his wounds, some of them seemed to be symptoms from being tortured, like from a<em> Cruciatus</em>. I don’t think any Order member would do that to him.”</p><p>Ron snorted. “You think he’s fucked up and You-Know-Who’s punished him? Made a mistake while trying to please his Lord?” The last few words were said sardonically, twisted so they came out as mocking.</p><p>Harry paused. “Do you...do you think he’s defected?”</p><p>Even Hermione had to laugh at that. “There’s no way. Why would he ever do that? Malfoy’s preached the pureblooded dogma shite his whole life, he got off on calling me a mudblood,” both Harry and Ron winced, “and he’s only ever wanted to follow in his precious father’s footsteps.”</p><p>Ron harrumphed in agreement, but when Hermione turned to look at Harry’s reaction, he was making the same troubled face she had seen him make earlier at Malfoy.</p><p>“What is it, Harry? Something’s troubling you,” she guessed. She shared a look of confusion with Ron and shrugged. She had no idea what was plaguing Harry’s mind.</p><p>“I’m not denying that Malfoy’s a bigoted, classist bastard,” Harry started.</p><p>“But…” Hermione trailed off.</p><p>Harry sighed. “When I was in the Astronomy Tower...with Dumbledore…”</p><p>Hermione gasped. Harry had never fully described what had happened the night the headmaster had died, other than that Snape had been the one to finally kill Dumbledore.</p><p>“...when Malfoy was there, explaining to Dumbledore how he had gotten into the school,” Harry continued, “he seemed terrified. And at one point, Malfoy confessed that he had no choice, that Voldemort would kill him and his family. Dumbledore offered Malfoy a place with the Order, on our side, and I swear Malfoy was considering it! He lowered his wand a little, but before…”</p><p>“That’s when the rest of the Death Eaters got there, isn’t it?” Ron finished quietly.</p><p>Harry nodded sadly. Hermione made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She closed her eyes, tears pricking the corners. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I never knew…” She felt Harry’s shoulders shake as Ron’s gangly frame surrounded them, joining their hug. Hearing Harry cry felt like someone was ripping her heart right out, and she held onto Ron’s arm to ground herself. Otherwise, she felt as if she might just fade away with the sorrow they were all feeling over the immense loss of their beloved headmaster.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. To Be A Malfoy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi all!  I know this chapter wasn't supposed to go up until Saturday, but I managed to get a lot of writing done so I thought why not post early! ;) Don't worry, there will still be a chapter going up on Saturday!</p><p>Please follow/favorite and leave a comment so I know how you guys are liking the story so far!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> September 6, 1997 </em>
</p><p>Draco Malfoy had done many stupid things in his lifetime. His pride prevented him from admitting that fact to others, but Draco was not foolish enough to be in denial.</p><p>If he looked back far enough, the first memory he had of where he’d done something brainless was when he was five. It was the first time he could remember utterly regretting something he’d done...</p><p>
  <em> He’d convinced Dobby to take Lucius’s old school broom off the display in one of the sitting rooms, promising the house elf that no one would get in trouble. The training brooms that his parents had forced him to use had been so slow and boring, and Draco had wanted to try something fun. Though his father’s broom had decreased in quality due to age, it was still leagues better than the stupid training broom.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He had felt so much excitement when getting on, cruising around slowly at first, and then slowly gaining speed and altitude until he was whipping around just above the tree line of the Manor’s back gardens. The feeling of freedom and independence had felt addictive, like a sweet drug. Lost in his joy, Draco didn’t notice until it was too late that a large tree branch was in his path. In his stress, he’d been unable to control the unfamiliar broom, and had hit the tree at quite a speed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The next thing he knew, he’d woken up at St. Mungo’s recovering from a concussion, with a broken arm and leg. His mother had been crying, beside herself with worry, and he could hear his father yelling angrily at some poor Mediwitch who’d gotten in his way.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Once he’d left St. Mungo’s, his parents had taken away his broom privileges for six months, and his mother never let him go anywhere without a chaperone for at least a year. His father hadn’t spoken to Draco for weeks after he returned from St. Mungo’s, until the night before Draco’s sixth birthday. Draco was called into his father’s study, candlelight making Lucius’ stern features appear even sharper. He had thought he was going to finally be punished for stealing his father’s broom, but Lucius just stared at Draco for a few moments before gesturing to the chair in front of him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Sit, Draco.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Draco reluctantly moved towards the chair, gingerly sitting down across from his father. “Why did you want to see me, Father?” he asked meekly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Do you know what it means to be a Malfoy?” his father began, twirling his wand between his fingers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Y-yes, sir. It means we are one of the best-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No. We ARE the best,” Lucius interrupted. “We are intelligent, wealthy, ambitious magical people, and there is no one who can outdo our reputation in these respects. Do you understand, Draco?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Yes, Father.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You are the sole heir to an impeccable bloodline, whose ancestors paved the way for wizarding kind.” Here, Lucius had paused. “Now, do you understand why stealing my broom was foolish, Draco?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yes, Father.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your mother and I have told you countless times that you are only to use training brooms until we decide for you to move onto something more professional. We have not raised you, fed you, given you shelter and an enviable childhood for you to disrespect us and disobey us!”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lucius’ raised voice caused Draco to flinch, his heart starting to beat faster in fear of what was a most certain punishment. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Your foolish actions, if others were to hear of this, could cause your mother and I to be a laughingstock in pureblood society, known to all as being unable to handle our child. And, Merlin forbid, if you had died, you would have left the Malfoy name without an heir!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lucius stood up, and started pacing behind his desk. “Do you understand, child, what would have happened if you had died? Your mother and I cannot have more children. The last of the Malfoys would have died with you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fortunately for Draco, at that moment an owl came through the window, heralding some important matter. Lucius had dismissed Draco back to his room with a stern warning to never disobey Lucius’ orders again, or else.  </em>
</p><p>After that memory, Draco had certainly done countless slow-witted things, but he had been extra-careful to never do it in his home. Most of his failings happened at Hogwarts, and often seemed to revolve around the so-called Golden Trio. Draco grimaced as he recalled being sent by that oaf Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest with Potter, after trying to rat out the trio for being out after curfew. Then, when he’d angered that bloody Hippobeak or whatever it was called, and ended up in the Hospital Wing with a slice of flesh missing from his arm. Or when the Mudblood had humiliated him by punching him in the face. Or when that crazy professor had turned him into the fucking bouncing ferret. There were so many times when he should have just shut up or stayed to the side, but his need to get the last word in with the Trio had often done more harm than good.</p><p>But what nearly topped the list of stupidity was trying so hard to make his father proud that he joined the Death Eaters. Draco had spent his whole life trying to live up to the expectations of his father, and when an opportunity arose for Draco to assist the Dark Lord, he jumped to help. With the Dark Lord staying in Malfoy Manor, it wasn’t like Draco really had the option to say no to being part of the Death Eaters, but he had wanted to please his father so much that he offered the idea of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet to let Death Eaters in to Hogwarts. Draco could still remember fighting to cringe when the Dark Lord had smiled creepily in response to Draco’s idea, his snake-like voice congratulating Draco on his good idea.</p><p>It had all gone downhill from there; since it took Draco several months to fix the Cabinet, You-Know-Who had been extremely displeased with the slow progress and had threatened Draco’s own life and the lives of his parents as motivation for Draco to fix the Cabinet faster. The Dark Lord had also appointed Draco the task of killing Dumbledore. Though Draco had hated the headmaster for his mind-games and overt favoritism for Gryffindors, he did not want Dumbledore to die, and certainly not by Draco’s own hand. The order from the Dark Lord had terrified Draco, but he knew he had no choice.</p><p>And so he worked on it through all of sixth year, dropping behind in his studies for the first time so he could focus all of his attention on research and repairing the broken Cabinet. The moment the Cabinet was finished, instead of feeling relief, Draco had felt a claustrophobic, overwhelming terror knowing that his mission was not yet finished. </p><p>When he had finally cornered Dumbledore in the Astronomy Tower, he had tried to put on a brave face in front of the headmaster, trying to taunt the old man with his certain death. But instead of showing fear, the headmaster had instead tried to offer Draco mercy. A place on the side of the Order.</p><p>And for the first time in a long time, Draco felt unsure of who he was. He felt like Dumbledore actually cared about his well-being, and his soul. Dumbledore could tell that Draco was not a killer, and never wanted to be one, regardless of the bravado Draco displayed. </p><p>But then Fenrir and the others arrived, and Draco could do nothing but watch as Snape killed one of the only people who might truly have known how Draco felt.</p><p>After the Death Eaters captured Hogwarts, Draco was punished severely by the Dark Lord for failing to be the one to kill Dumbledore, but was spared his life since Dumbledore had ultimately ended up dead.</p><p>Draco stayed within the Death Eaters ranks, continuing to show outwards support to the Dark Lord while at the Manor, but his conscience was conflicted. He would constantly wake up screaming from nightmares about that night in the Astronomy Tower, wondering what could have been if Dumbledore hadn’t been murdered.</p><p>Though he didn’t completely agree with the Order’s ideology (after all, he still believed purebloods were superior), Draco still longed for the safety and peace of mind he undoubtedly would have had with the Order. With You-Know-Who residing in Malfoy Manor, and all his lackeys crawling around, the manor no longer felt like home to Draco. Draco’s old wishes of pleasing Lucius had been all but banished when Draco’s father had personally punished Draco for failing his Lord after the Dark Lord had already doled out Draco’s punishment. Then, Lucius had banned Narcissa from seeing Draco after Draco’s failure, another thing Draco was resentful towards Lucius for. Lucius had blamed Narcissa for Draco’s failure, stating that she had made the boy ‘too soft’.</p><p>Disgusted and hurt with how his father had treated him, Draco had since abandoned the path that followed in his father’s footsteps. </p><p>His only solace was his friendship with Theodore Nott, who was the only person aside from Dumbledore who understood the conflict in Draco’s mind. He was also the person who helped Draco make the actual stupidest decision in his life: defect from the Death Eaters. Theo had joined the Death Eaters around the same time as Draco, but had stayed much more on the sidelines.</p><p>What was more surprising was that Snape helped with Draco’s decision too.</p><p>His godfather had explained to Draco why he had killed Dumbledore, after feeling guilty that Draco was punished. Draco had been astounded to learn that Dumbledore had been dying when he was in the Astronomy Tower- Snape had mumbled something about a cursed ring- and that the headmaster only had a few weeks left to live. Dumbledore, knowing Draco’s mission, had asked Snape to be the one to kill him.</p><p>After Snape had told Draco this, Draco hesitantly revealed his reservations about serving the Dark Lord. Though it was known that Snape was a double agent, Draco wasn’t sure about whether Snape’s loyalties truly lied with Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. But something about the way Snape had soberly explained the backstory behind Dumbledore’s passing made Draco believe that he could trust Snape.</p><p>And Draco was right. </p><p>Theo had decided early on that he would accompany Draco and leave behind the abusive and terrible life under his alcoholic Death Eater father, Theodore Nott Sr. Theo, like Draco, had also despised the oppressive and stressful life under the Dark Lord. Together with Snape, they plotted for months on how Draco and Theo could slip out and stay hidden away from the watchful and seemingly omnipresent gaze of the Dark Lord.</p><p>Around late August, their plan started to come together. Knowing that the Order would no longer offer them protection due to Draco’s involvement in Dumbledore’s death, he and Theo decided on getting a black market International Portkey to Italy, where the Dark Lord’s influence was barely existent.</p><p>They would lay low for a couple months there, in a heavily warded safe house Snape would set up, and try to establish contact with the Order and prove that they had defected. If the Order accepted, Draco and Theo would head back to England with the help of Snape to presumably help fight with the Order. If not, Draco and Theo had accepted that they might have to live out their lives in Italy.</p><p>The hardest part of the plan was the secrecy. Draco had wanted so badly to speak with his mother and let her know what was going on, but since Lucius was keeping her locked up in one wing of the Manor, it was impossible for Draco to see her. Draco ended up accepting that maybe that was best - if Voldemort ever tried Legilimency on his mother, she couldn’t divulge information she didn’t have. It would be safer for her, and for everyone involved, if no one else knew.</p><p>Therefore, in order to alert no one to their plans, Draco and Theo had ramped up their efforts within the Dark Lord’s ranks. They’d volunteered for countless extra missions, hoping that their perceived ambition would throw others off the scent. And it seemed to be working, as the Dark Lord had mentioned several times how Draco and Theo were improving.</p><p>But today was the day that Snape, Theo, and Draco had been planning so long for. It was finally September 6, and in fifteen minutes, at the stroke of midnight, Snape would arrive at the Manor with the secret Portkey for Draco and Theo.</p><p>Snape, rather ingeniously, had charmed Galleons so that the three of them could send messages to each other and stay notified on what was happening.</p><p>As Draco stared out the window of his bedroom, nerves making his mind feel jittery, the aforementioned Galleon started heating up in his hand. Draco was so jumpy that he nearly dropped it, but managed to keep his cool and focus on the words appearing on the shimmering gold face of the coin.</p><p>
  <em> DL called me. Emergency. Go w/o me. Theo x. </em>
</p><p>Draco’s mouth felt as though he were swallowing dust as he read the words over and over again. He was supposed to do this with Theo, they were supposed to figure this out <em> together </em>. He would have tried to find Theo, but if the Dark Lord had specifically requested an audience with Theo, there was no way Draco would be able to get him without getting them both killed. </p><p>A chime sounded above the Floo, alerting Draco that someone was about to step through. Though he was almost certain it was Snape, he still shoved the coin back into his pocket, and he was glad he did so when Dolohov, not Snape, stepped out of his Floo.</p><p>“Dolohov,” acknowledged Draco, his voice sounding more confident than he felt. A quick glance at a clock showed that there was still ten minutes to midnight.</p><p>Ten minutes for Draco to get Dolohov the fuck out of his room before Snape arrived. </p><p>“Young Malfoy,” Dolohov replied, and Draco watched in horror as Dolohov settled into an armchair by the fire.</p><p>“I must be incredibly lucky to be blessed with your presence at midnight, Dolohov. But some of us like to sleep,” Draco drawled, trying to keep his voice steady. He cursed himself for leaving his wand on his dresser across the room.</p><p>Dolohov chuckled. “Ah, yes, yes. But I came by for a reason. I have a question to ask you.” The Death Eater narrowed his eyes in Draco direction, and Draco had to force himself to keep breathing regularly. He quickly set up walls in his mind, securing his thoughts in case Dolohov tried Legilimency.</p><p><em> He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know, </em>Draco told himself. “What is it, then? Be quick with it, I’ve not been feeling my best and I would like to retire for the night.”</p><p>Dolohov grunted. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about the Nott boy. You’re friends with him, aren’t you?”</p><p>“What?” Draco blurted, unable to control himself. Composing himself, he replied, “I wouldn’t call us friends...we just happen to be lumped together a lot due to our age.”</p><p>“Hmm. Well, I’ve noticed that the Dark Lord has been giving him more tasks. Tasks that he normally would have given to me,” Dolohov disclosed haughtily.</p><p>Draco nearly laughed in relief. <em> He’s here because he’s jealous!  </em>“My oh my, Dolohov. I didn’t pin you for the jealous type.”</p><p>The Death Eater snarled. “I’m not jealous! I just want to know if Nott deserves his place.”</p><p>“So you’re trying to dig up some dirt on him. Something to report to the Dark Lord about why you deserve it more than him,” Draco surmised. “Well, unfortunately Dolohov, I can’t help you there. In the past I’ve tended to agree with the Dark Lord’s decisions, not question them.”</p><p>At that, Dolohov paled, but the man stood up anyway, wand at the ready. “You dare speak to your elders this way? You think I do not respect the Dark Lord?” </p><p>Before Draco could reply, Dolohov shouted “<em>Crucio! </em>” and Draco fell to the ground, yelling out in pain. It felt as though all his nerve endings were on fire, and at the same time someone was crushing his ribs. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except lie there and take it.</p><p>And suddenly, it stopped. He opened his eyes slowly, and sighed in relief as he recognized Snape’s sulking figure. </p><p>“Dolohov, what are you doing with Lucius’ boy?” Draco heard Snape say.</p><p>“The little twit was being insolent! He said- he said I didn’t deserve my place with the Lord-”</p><p>“No, Dolohov, I merely implied that maybe Nott was doing better than you,” Draco rasped. He saw Snape widen his eyes and shake his head from behind Dolohov, pleading him not to anger Dolohov more. But Draco pressed, pissed off that Dolohov had cursed him, “and it seems the Dark Lord agrees with me-”</p><p>Draco was cut off as Dolohov hissed something at him, mouth twisted in fury. Draco yelped as his cheek and forehead were sliced open. Dolohov managed to fire another curse at Draco before Snape disarmed him, and within the next minute Snape had grabbed Dolohov and headed back into the Floo.</p><p>Dolohov’s second curse had left large burns all over his body that were stinging harshly. Draco whimpered as he stood up, and he panicked slightly as he realized that the Cruciatus had impeded his ability to breathe properly. </p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, ” he muttered, and he headed over to his dresser to grab his wand. As he was about to heal some of Dolohov’s handiwork, a doe Patronus bounded into his room out of nowhere.</p><p>To Draco’s bewilderment, the doe’s mouth opened and Snape’s voice came out.</p><p>
  <em> “Draco, you must leave now. I planted the Portkey on Dolohov when the Dark Lord encountered us in the drawing room. He somehow found the Portkey on Dolohov, but Dolohov blamed you, said you had a problem with him and framed him. The Dark Lord is heading up to you now to investigate. Leave now, apparate somewhere safe. Keep in touch with the coin.” </em>
</p><p>“Fuck!” Draco exclaimed, and grabbed his rucksack from where it had been hidden behind his bed. He shrunk it and shoved it in his pocket, checking over the room to make sure there was nothing around that could incriminate Theo or Snape.</p><p>If his Occlumency was better, he would have stayed and tried to lie out of the situation, but Draco’s efforts after being targeted with the Cruciatus would be nothing compared to the Dark Lord’s skill.</p><p>Twisting where he stood, he closed his eyes and thought of a forest he remembered from his childhood. Swinley Forest, where Narcissa had brought a young Draco years ago for picnics and bonding time. Lucius had never known about it, and so Draco was certain it was safe.</p><p>He grimaced as the uncomfortable sensation of being forced through a very tight rubber tube overcame his body, signifying Apparition.</p><p>As soon as he landed in the forest, he could tell something was wrong. He collapsed to the ground, the wind knocked out of him, and a warm patch was spreading across his back.</p><p><em> Blood, </em>he thought faintly, recognizing that he must have splinched himself.</p><p>Then his whole world went black.</p><hr/><p>
  <em> September 7, 1997  </em>
</p><p>Hermione, Harry, and Ron had taken turns keeping watch over Malfoy during the night. Come sunrise, no one was particularly well-rested, but they had all had enough time to think over the events from earlier.</p><p>During Hermione’s watch, she had used her wand to siphon some Sleeping Draught into Malfoy’s mouth. Not only would it allow him to heal quicker since he was fully resting, it would also give the trio some time  to decide how exactly Draco Malfoy would fit into their mission. The potion was also so much simpler than Stunning him every half hour.</p><p>“So we’re gonna give him a chance to explain himself then?” Ron’s gruff morning voice broke Hermione out of her thoughts. She marveled at how Ron wasn’t angrily setting Malfoy on fire just for being a Death Eater, but she imagined that what Harry had told them yesterday had put things into perspective for Ron.</p><p>It certainly had for her.</p><p>She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have an evil, psychopathic dictator threaten to kill you and your family if you didn’t do as ordered. There weren’t many things she wouldn’t do to keep her loved ones safe...and that frightened her. Who was she to judge Malfoy for the choices he had made, knowing very well that she might do the same in his position? It certainly didn’t make what he did right, but his actions were now...understandable.</p><p>“Yeah, I guess so,” Harry mumbled in response to Ron's query. </p><p>Hermione nodded gently, echoing his sentiment, and headed towards the kitchen, hoping to throw together something for breakfast. She cursed under her breath when she realized that they had run out of the last of their food the previous night. Normally, Hermione would be more organized, but between the relentless infighting and the Horcrux research, her mind was stretched thin.</p><p>She walked back out into the common area, and started assembling what she’d need for foraging. ‘Foraging’ was actually quite a kind term for how the trio had been getting provisions- they’d sneak into Muggle markets under the Invisibility Cloak before they’d open or after close and nick whatever they’d need, and then leave some Muggle money by the till. Hermione had packed all the Muggle cash she’d had into her bag when they’d initially decided to hunt the Horcruxes, knowing that it might come in necessary at some point. She also had packed some Wizarding money as well, as popping in and out of Gringotts wasn’t entirely feasible when you were on the run from a Dark Lord.</p><p>“I’m going to have to pop back to the store as we’ve run out of food,” Hermione announced. Harry moved as though he might object, but Hermione motioned him to stop. “It’s my turn to go and get supplies. It’ll be quick. Just keep an eye on Malfoy, and if I’m any later than an hour, readminister a teaspoon of the Sleeping Draught.”</p><p>After affirming that Harry and Ron would trade off wearing the locket while she was gone, Hermione headed out of the tent under the Invisibility Cloak. After casting a quick <em> Homenum Revelio </em> to ensure that there was no one nearby, she stepped outside the ward line in the clearing and apparated to the closest Muggle village.</p><p>
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